


What She Knew and When She Knew It

by blue_eyes_incognito



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Canon Compliant, Dream Sex, F/M, Karen has sex with Daredevil, Not A Lot Of Plot, Porn With Plot, Wall Sex, karedevil - Freeform, karen is a little dominant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_eyes_incognito/pseuds/blue_eyes_incognito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the disaster with the Castle case and Karen's fight with Matt on the courthouse steps, Karen has a nightmare about being attacked by one of Fisk's men. These nightmares aren't uncommon--she often has them when she's stressed, and she's learned to see through them a little, but this one takes a very different turn when the Devil of Hell's Kitchen turns up to rescue her and she sees him for every inch of who he truly is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What She Knew and When She Knew It

It was as if the world had come unhinged around her as the man slammed her against the wall for a second time. "My employer strongly recommends that you sign the agreement and pretend none of this ever happened."

Karen tried to find her breath, having had the wind knocked out of her. She was pretty sure that this dingy hallway, just steps from her apartment, was where she was going to die. But at the same time, and she couldn't put her finger on why, she had the strangest hint of deja-vu. Somewhere in the back of her mind, something about this wasn't right, though that just as well could have been the concussion she very likely had from her head having had put a fairly sizable dent in the plaster wall behind her. The man's hand had begun to close around her throat to begin another round of threats to keep her silent.

"Okay, okay," she managed to squeak out in acquiescence. Anything to save herself here and now. The strategy had served her well in the past, but the hand around her throat only tightened further.

"I don't believe you," he growled, lifting her slightly off the ground by her neck. Karen's vision began to dim slightly around the edges when something impacted the man holding her up and threw them both to the side.

Karen lay on the ground choking and gasping for air, regaining her wits in time to see a figure dressed in red tackle her attacker into the next hallway. She propped herself up with her hands, pieces of wall plaster that had been knocked loose by her head sticking to her palms and sliding down the sleeves of her blouse from her shoulders. She listened to the continuing scuffle between her attacker and her crimson-clad rescuer as she sat up completely, leaning her back against the wall. She rubbed at her throat, where she could feel a bright bruise blossoming where her attacker's hand had just been. She was beginning to regain confidence in her ability to stand when the commotion around the corner had ceased.

Karen scrambled to her feet and looked around her for anything she could use as a weapon. She briefly considered retreating quickly into her apartment, but her first quick step backward nearly landed her back on her ass. Her purse had been flung about the same distance from her as her apartment door, but in the opposite direction. She clung to the wall and hoped silently that whoever emerged from around the corner wished her no harm.

Dressed head-to-toe in red, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen rounded the corner, slightly out of breath, with a trickle of blood already drying along his cheek. Karen relaxed slightly but kept her eyes fixed. He bent down to pick up Karen's handbag. He took a few more steps before offering it to her and, noticing her unsteadiness, held her gently by the arm to offer her stability away from the wall.

Karen leaned her weight into him as she took a step forward to take her purse, only to have her feet tangle beneath her. The man in the mask caught her with his other hand to help her stay on her feet, and Karen found her arms around his shoulders. He slid his hand up her shoulder and gently held her face, brushing his thumb along her cheekbone.

"Are you alright Miss Page?"

Karen nodded, her throat becoming sorer by the second from the trauma, leaving her mostly unable to speak. The arms that she had wrapped around the Daredevil's shoulders for stability drew him into an embrace and, for reasons she couldn't justify, a deep kiss. Karen expected him to pull away, and for a moment, it seemed that he would. But Karen, unsteady and shaken as she was, suddenly found herself insistent, pulling him closer with all of the strength she could muster from her shaking hands.

The hand that Daredevil had first steadied Karen with slowly slid down her back and his arm wrapped around her waist. Karen finally found her legs under her and took a couple of steps backward to lead him to her apartment door. She broke contact with his lips, but held onto his hand firmly while she unlocked the door and pushed it open. She pulled the masked man inside, closed the door, and backed him into it, kissing him again. This time, he pushed her back gently by the shoulders and held her at about arm's length.

"Miss Page, I--" he began.

"Karen," she interrupted, her voice strained and very hoarse, "Call me Karen."

"Karen," he began again, "I'm not sure we should--"

Karen pressed a finger to his lips. They felt dry but still soft, and she already missed them against her own lips.

"I'm fine," she rasped, "I want this. I've wanted to thank you for a long time."

She took both of Daredevil's gloved hands loosely in her own, looking up at his masked face, gauging his reaction. Just as she thought she detected a twitch of a curl at the corners of his lips, his hands swiftly and firmly took her waist, and in an instant, she found herself between the wall and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, his lips upon her lips, then her neck, then her collarbone, then her lips again, all the while avoiding every tender and bruised spot that had been left by her attacker and leaving only a trail of tingling pleasure.

Karen's hands moved almost desperately over the masked man's shoulders and back, her fingers dancing over every contour, trying to remember every detail, while also seeking any means of liberating his body from his tight, red suit. It was almost as if he was reading her mind when he took her hands and guided them to a set of snaps over each shoulder, helping her undo them on each side in turn, freeing the armor from each of his arms, then his torso. Beneath the armor, a thin, skintight black shirt revealed the outlines of his finely muscled physique. Karen traced her fingers over the contours of his chest, and as her ears rung and her head swam from some combination of her recent head trauma and sheer exhilaration and desire for this vigilante in front of her, this man who had saved her life so many times and had sparked something in her with the way that he did what others wouldn't--how he did what was necessary.

She tugged up on the bottom of the shirt, and with his assistance, pulled it over his head, unwrapping the Devil of Hell's Kitchen from his suit in the eager but gentle way that a person would open a gift while still trying not to tear the wrapping paper. She pulled him back toward her and began kissing him even more deeply, as if she could somehow heal the cuts and scars that crisscrossed his torso if she did so with enough conviction.

As she did so, the masked man removed the gloves he was wearing from his hands, letting them drop to the floor in the growing pile of his armor. His newly bare hands sought the fabric of Karen's blouse, smoothing it from her shoulders, down the sides of her breasts, and to her waist before coming to the middle and undoing the buttons from the bottom, up, all without breaking contact with Karen's lips. He slid the blouse off her shoulders, down her arms, and onto the floor, all the while skimming over her skin with his thumbs.

No sooner had her blouse fallen to the floor in a pool of silky fabric, Karen hiked up her skirt just enough to wrap one of her legs around Daredevil's waist. As she pulled him closer, she felt the stiffness that had grown beneath the fabric of the bottom half of his suit. She pressed herself more firmly against this part of him, feeling warmth rising within her, blossoming from this point of contact. She steadied herself against the wall with one hand while cupping the other behind his head, feeling the material of the cowl that still masked his identity beneath her palm. She probed the inside of his mouth eagerly with her tongue and nibbled playfully at his bottom lip.

Daredevil's right hand cupped the side of Karen's face, his fingers laced in her hair. His left hand was firmly on her ass, pulling her closer to him as she started to grind into the bulge that was now straining against the bottom half of his suit. He moved his mouth down her neck to her collarbone, combining kisses with tongue swirls and occasional gentle nips with his teeth as Karen let out little moans and pressed against him even harder. Karen drew her hand to where she hoped to find a way to free the masked man's cock from the bottom of his suit. She tugged down on the fabric a bit, hoping to slide it down his narrow hips. Daredevil smiled slightly and unwrapped Karen's leg from around his waist, stepping backward. Karen started to attempt to squeak out an apology, but before she could get a sound out, he had shimmied out of the suit entirely, standing before her in naught but tight, black boxer briefs, which could hardly conceal the full erection beneath their thin fabric, and a red devil mask.

Karen felt the wetness increase between her legs as she began to feel a throbbing ache there. She stepped toward the masked man and pressed herself against him once more, feeling his hardness against her hipbone as she ghosted over his collarbone with her lips and grabbed two firm handfuls of his ass.

"Mmm..." she moaned as he traced his hand up the outside of her thigh, hiking up her skirt, and dragging his fingertips across the top of her leg to her inner thigh. His knuckles brushed lightly against her clitoris through her wet panties as he did so, causing her to take in a small, sharp breath. His fingers worked upward toward the waistband of her underwear, hooking around the elastic and, with a little help from Karen's gyrating hips, slid them down her legs and onto the floor. His hand returned to her inner thigh once more, tracing upward until his fingers slid ever-so-gently along her labia, probing at her opening teasingly with a single digit. Karen ground against his hand with a combination of desire and frustration as she reached out to wrap her own hand against his erection, which had finally begun to escape its black fabric prison. She freed it entirely and guided it between her legs, where she slid it back and forth along her wetness and rubbed against her sensitive, swollen clit. The masked man's back arched as he rutted against her, a quiet moan escaping from his lips.

He slid back and forth against her for a few moments until Karen wrapped one of her legs around his waist again and began to guide the head of his cock into her. He entered her just a couple of inches and pulled back, probing her tightness until it relaxed for him to move deeper. He lifted her by the bottom of her ass and her upper thighs, at first leaving just the tiptoes of her on foot on the ground before she wrapped both legs around him. He lifted her a little further before thrusting as deeply as he could into her as he backed her against the wall. Karen let out a guttural moan punctuated with a squeak that might have been a scream had her voice not been so damaged. She dug her fingernails into his shoulder blades and inhaled sharply as he pulled back and thrust into her again and again as she began to pant and mewl, and her legs began to writhe uncontrollably around his waist.

"Oh, fuck!" she rasped, throwing her head back against the wall. She was trying to catch her breath, she was trying to string together any kind of thought or intention with which to move her body, but all she could feel was the Devil of Hell's Kitchen inside of her, filling her, and satisfying every inch of her. Her vision began to blur around the edges for the second time that evening, this time not from head trauma or asphyxia, but from the pressure that had built from her loins and had spread throughout her body to her head, with no place else to go. She screamed to release it, the sound coming out of her being more of a hissing squeal as she dragged her fingernails across the back of the masked man who was nailing her to her apartment wall. With a final exhale, her body went limp and she collapsed all of her weight into him. He stopped thrusting, took the whole of her weight in his arms, and, while still inside her, carried her to her bed, where he laid down with her on top of him.

Karen regarded the masked man beneath her with an expression that she imagined was equal parts stunned and dazed. He was still hard and deep inside her as she sat atop him on her bed, musing slightly at the fact that he wore nothing but his mask, which concealed his identity from her. As her head began to clear from her orgasm, he began grinding against him once again, rocking back and forth with him inside of her, as it occurred to her that she was, in this moment, fucking a man whose identity was entirely unknown to her, and she felt a new kind of thrill rush from her head into her loins. She began to lift herself and sink back down onto his cock, thrusting him in and out of her with growing rapidity. Karen found herself perturbed by the quietness of his moans, convinced that sex with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen deserved to be a more raucous affair.

As she fucked herself on him, she leaned forward to begin kissing him, first on the lips, then moving across his jaw, down his neck, and over his collarbone. She then traveled back along the same path, punctuating kisses with nibbles and bites, detouring to his ear, where she began to suck and nibble at his earlobe. As she did so, his fingernails began to dig into her back as he let out the first unrestrained moan that she heard from him as he began to thrust up into her, attempting to increase her rhythm. The syncopation sent a small thrill shooting through Karen's body as she thrust back against him, forcing him to remain deep and still within her. Her hand slid down his side, eventually resting against the side of his ass, where she could practically feel a trembling from his desire to release. A small, mischievous grin crept onto Karen's face. She fucked him slowly a couple of times, teasing him, watching his jaw tighten and slack as he gasped desperately. She leaned into him and whispered into his ear, "Sex should be loud, Daredevil."

She slowly lifted herself off of him and lowered herself again. He moaned and pushed into her desperately. She ground against him, tightening and relaxing her muscles around him as she did so.

"P-please," he pleaded, swallowing dryly and rutting up against her. She slid him in and out of her several more times, speeding up her pace as she went. His breathing quickened and she stopped suddenly on an upstroke, with just the tip of his cock still inside her. He began to exhale with near-exasperation before she plunged him back into her, deep as he would go, causing his breath to catch as she practically growled into his ear, "I want you hear you come," as she fucked against him as furiously and quickly as she could.

Karen felt him tense as she felt heat and pressure building up inside of her again. Finally, he thrust up into her, letting out a guttural yell as she felt his orgasm pulse inside of her. She fucked against him a few times more, taking herself over the edge again right after him, and collapsing against his chest with him still inside of her.

As they both came down from their orgasmic high, Karen was the first to speak. "I've wanted to do that," she said hoarsely, still catching her breath a little, "since you first saved me a year ago."

Daredevil responded with a slight nod, which Karen felt as his chin slid along her temple, and by wrapping his arm around her.

"I still don't know who you are," she continued, "I've seen all of you except what's under that mask."

He remained silent, offering no reaction.

"I don't think I need to know, but if you--"

The masked man interrupted Karen by turning them both onto their sides so that they faced each other, squaring her eyes with the eyes of his mask. He guided her hand to it.

"If you want to take it off, I won't stop you," he said, leaving Karen's hand against the mask, but removing his own. Karen paused for a moment, deciding whether or not she really wanted to know. It only took about five seconds for her curiosity to get the better of her. She sat up all the way, crossing her legs under her as she sat facing Daredevil. He sat up as well to face her. She took his mask in both hands and lifted it from his head, looking into the eyes that set behind it.

Sightless eyes.

Matt's eyes.

Karen's eyelids slammed open as she sat bolt upright in bed. Several loose papers about the Castle case that she had been reading before she had fallen asleep fluttered to the floor. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light from the lamp that she had left on, and her hand absently traveled between her thighs and the heel of her hand pressed against her crotch trying to preserve the whatever warmth remained there from her dream.

Her dream about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

Her dream about Matt.

Her dream about Matt being Daredevil.

She shook her head. "Ridiculous," she muttered, as if trying to convince herself against something that she had woken up knowing was absolutely true. And the more that she thought about it, the more that it explained--the injuries, the absences, the secrecy--Matthew Murdock as Daredevil made more sense than any other explanation she had come up with for his behavior.

Now all that was left to wonder was: would he ever tell her the truth?

**Author's Note:**

> My first Daredevil fic and the first explicit fic I've ever actually published publicly in any fandom. I was rather disappointed by the dearth of good Karedevil smut out there (there just isn't enough of it!), so I wrote some myself. I worked hard to make this something that I would want to read, and I hope you enjoyed it.


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